


Sand and Snow

by CrowKing



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, fic request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-08 03:13:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12245856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrowKing/pseuds/CrowKing
Summary: Fic Request: (Hi love , I've admired your work for a while! It's fantastic. I was wondering if you could do a Jon Snow imagine where the reader is elia and rhaegars daughter (the mountain doesn't find her) so oberyn takes her in and loves her like his own daughter. She meets jon and they fall in love (he's just ned's bastard not lyanna and rhaegars) she goes to him when oberyn is killed and you can add in stuff and decide what all happens :) thanks in advance.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! Please enjoy!

“Red! Dornish Red!” the merchant shouted across the market. People were shopping for the fresh lemons havested or the warm bread baked this morning. “Dornish Red wine! Imported straight from Dorne!”

“Really? I would like to have a try,” my Uncle Oberyn said. I knew he was going to cause some trouble. I stood next to him, keeping quiet. I wanted to take in all of my surroundings. King’s Landing was a dump. I shook my head at the people here. How weak and rude they were. 

“Be my guest!” the merchant poured my uncle a small sample. Although it was summer, it was not as hot here. In Dorne, the sun could cook your skin mercilessly. Here, it was tame. It was a nice break to feel the breeze from the ocean. I heard birds call over us. The smell of meats and cheeses overtook my nose. Maybe I shouldn’t be so negative. 

Oberyn took a sip of the wine and spat it out. “You think this is Dornish Red? This is shit!”

“And how you would know that?” the merchant asked angrily.

“I am from Dorne. I have tasted ugly women who are sweeter than your fake wine,” Oberyn laughed and walked away with me.

“Did you have to tease him?” I asked.

“A fraud is a fraud.”

“You told me everyone in King’s Landing is a fraud,” I looked up at him. Oberyn wagged his finger in the air.

“This is true,” he chuckled for a moment. His face fell. “Which is why no one here will know who you are. Everyone is a fraud. Everyone is out to hurt you.”

“Even the Starks?” I saw their banner men near the castle. They were tall, broad, and proud men. “They’re honorable men.”

“That is what they preach,” Oberyn spoke into my ear. “Truth is, if they knew you weren’t my bastard daughter, they’d be the first to kill you in the name of good, dead King Robert Baratheon.” His words dripped like poison. I had to be careful.

I was only a baby when Robert’s Rebellion spread out across the land like a disease. War was everywhere, and when it came to Dorne it brought hatred and passion. Oberyn raised me by his own hand. On my 13th name day, he gave me the gift of knowledge.

He had told me everything. Who my mother was. Who my father was. What kind of blood ran through my veins. That the throne should be mine. That I belonged on that throne.

He brought me to King’s Landing for a reason. I wasn’t here to take anything from anyone. Oberyn never raised me to be a queen, Ellaria did. Oberyn and Ellaria told everyone that it was my time to be a part of noble society and practice diplomacy. The truth was I wanted to watch my uncle take the vengeance I spent half my life building up.

Oberyn and I walked inside the castle and saw more northern bannermen. I studied the pattern of their direwolf and noted that it was not fur that the direwolf was made of; it was steel. 

“There seems to be a lot of them,” I noted. 

“Preparations for the wedding, I assume,” Oberyn grabbed onto my arm tightly. “Come let’s find your mother.” Ellaria sat in the gardens next to a beautiful, young red-haired girl. She was eating lemon cakes. I could only assume it was Sansa Stark.

“Ah, Y/N,” Ellaria beamed at me. There were times I assumed I was her favorite. “Sansa, this is my daughter, Y/N. Both of you are around the same age, I believe. Come sit.” Sansa looked away from Ellaria, and what I was told was true. She was every bit like her mother. The sadness behind her eyes. The forced politeness. She was stronger than me.

“Lady Sansa,” I greeted her by taking her hands. “It is an honor to meet you. It is true what they about you. You are truly a northern rose thriving in the south.” 

“That was very kind, thank you,” Sansa said.

“My lady,” Ellaria shifted the conversation. “This is Y/N’s first time in King’s Landing. I was hoping for you both to spend some time together. I hear making friends is quick work here in King’s Landing.” 

“Oh, of course,” Sansa nodded. “Perhaps we could take a walk around the castle? Or the gardens?” She stood up, and in turn I took her arm. Quick friends, indeed.

“I would very much like that, thank you,” I responded. We left my aunt and uncle in the gardens and started our ladylike walk around the castle. Several guards and maidens walked past us. Some nodded our way, others wanted to listen into our conversation.

“I’m glad you were able to make it to King Joffery’s wedding to Margaery,” Sansa politely said. Her hands folded in front of her.

“You don’t have to do that. Not with me. I know,” I told her quietly. “I know about Joffery. I know what he did to you.”

“You don’t—

“I’m sorry,” I held my hands up immediately. “I didn’t mean any offense, my lady.” I held my breath. Sansa observed me. Her eyes watched my every move. She looked to her right, and took my hand.

“Follow me,” she murmured. I followed her into the private part of the castle gardens where many nobles come to pray or be at peace. It was near dinner time, so only a handful of people saw us. Tall hedges hid us away from everyone else. They were thick, so no one could walk or see through them.

“He’s a monster,” she told me. “A horrid monster, and I am to be married to his uncle. It was settled today. I still can’t believe it.” It was clear that she was seeking a friend or a confidant. She was desperate.

“I’m sorry,” my eyebrows knitted together. “I could help you.”

“No, you can’t,” Sansa said flatly. “This is marriage we’re talking about, Y/N.” Suddenly, I felt a rush of wind behind me. I turned to see three Northern banner men staring me down. 

“Can I help you?” I asked them. Without warning, one of them struck with a sword and I defended myself. I counterattacked in a quick, but sloppy manner. My dagger cut the northerner in his face. I could hear Sansa scream behind me. Two soldiers quickly came up from behind me and disarmed me. 

“No! Don’t!” Sansa begged at her men, but they did not listen to her. They took me away from her, and into the castle. Meanwhile, I kept calm. Why would Sansa’s own men would disobey her is beyond me. I intended to find out.

They were honorable men. They did not drag or taunt me. They simply walked me into a room without a view. The stone walls and floor gave away this room’s purpose. It was for criminals. I saw three more Northern men in the room.

“My lords,” one of the men holding me announced. “We caught her. The Dornish girl with your sister, Sansa.”

“Excuse me?” I scoffed. “I’m not just any Dornish girl. Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?” I spat at the soldier.

“And who do you think you are hurting my sister like that?” a voice said. I turned to the sound to discover a brown-eyed Stark with black curls staring back at me. He was solely focused on me. His Stark crest was polished on his chest. His nostrils were flared. He was angry with me.

Fuck, he’s beautiful.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Halfway through the story! I have received so much positive feedback on this! I'm very happy you guys are enjoying this :)

I attempted to open my mouth and form words in front of him.

“I-I wasn’t—

“Stop this!” Sansa came running in. “Jon, she wasn’t hurting me.”

“They saw her making you cry,” Jon replied back immediately. “You held up your arms, and she forced you into hiding in the gardens.”

“You’ve got it backwards,” Sansa explained on my behalf. “She was the one to hold up her hands, not me. I took her into the gardens. I wanted to tell her about Joffrey. She believes me.” I looked back at Jon and waited for a response. 

“Let her go,” Jon said, studying me. His eyes looked at me over and over until he felt satisfied. His men left the room, leaving him, Sansa, and me alone.

“Jon,” Sansa called out to him. “I told you to trust me.”

“And I told you that after what Joffrey did to you that I am protecting you. Most of our family is gone. I can’t protect Arya, but I can keep you safe,” Jon snapped at her. He was so aggressive, but it was clear he cared about his family more than anything. I felt my heart beat faster. 

I haven’t even spoken a single sentence to his face, and he had this effect on me. 

“Apologize to her,” Sansa demanded him. “You misunderstood her. Brought her down here, and you shamed her.” Jon sighed and looked at me directly.

“I apologize, my lady, for the misunderstanding,” he offered me his hand. I kept my composure. I would not turn red in front of him. I would not turn red in front of him. I would not.

“I understand,” I said, taking his hand. He was warm. “Keeping your sister is your biggest priority. That’s why my father, my mother, and I came here. We came to seek vengeance.”

“On the Lannisters?” Jon asked, his voice hushed.

“You can’t be serious?” Sansa came closer to me. 

“My aunt Elia and her children suffered at the hands of the Mountain and Tywin Lannister. Now, their dead, rotting bodies haunt my family. I can’t sleep at night. I still think of them. How they suffered. How they screamed.”

“That’s terrible,” Jon commented. “I can only imagine—

“You already know,” I told him. “Your father, your mother, your brother suffered at the hands of Joffery and his bitch mother did they not?” A silence fell between them. Sansa’s eyes became wet and she excused herself from the room. Realizing what I just said, I felt awful. 

“It’s still fresh in her mind. I haven’t had the easiest time adjusting either,” Jon started. “But I am glad you are here. It has been hard for both of us. It would be nice to have someone around to listen and understand.” He gave me a small smile, and I returned the favor. 

Jon escorted me to the dining hall for dinner. The hall was packed for the wedding tomorrow. Noble lords and ladies were catching up with one another. I heard laughter and loud music. It was summer after all. Love and compassion was in the air, swelling and making everything a little bit brighter.

“I see your mother and father over there, would you want to join them?” Jon asked me. I noticed the subtle patterns in the fabric he wore. The brown and beige colors complimented each other, but something told me that he did not like southern fashion.

“No,” shaking my head. “They will not miss me. I would rather eat with my new friends.” I beamed at him, and he held onto me a bit tighter. He returned my smile and bowed his head. 

“I’ll lead the way then.” 

As I ate dinner, I looked over to see my uncle and aunt watching me. They approved of me sitting with the Starks. In Dorne, bastards were everywhere. A northern bastard was no different. My uncle and aunt had eyes; they were not blind. They could see what I saw in Jon Snow, and they could sense it. I had to turn away from them before they could embarrass me.

At the high table sat Joffrey and his betrothed-to-be Margaery Tyrell. She was beautiful and kind as I have been told. She gracefully ate her foo and pretended to listen to the blonde rat net to her. Then, I saw his mother speak to her father, Tywin. She did not point at me, but her eyes focused on me. Tywin shook his head and responded back to her while taking a bite of the beef in front of him.

I felt something from her, something full of hate. Jon’s fingers touched my hand. He snapped me back to the table. “Are you alright?”

“She’s looking at me. She’s talking about me,” I whispered to him. I hoped she couldn’t see me.

“I’m not surprised,” Jon chuckled. “She hates everyone.”

“No, I mean, she was talking about me. As if I was her personal enemy, like I did something wrong by breathing.”

“You did nothing wrong. I can assure you,” Jon glanced Cersei’s way. “She’s a very suspicious woman. She’s also a very angry woman. I’d hate to be her target.” Later that night, Jon walked me back to my chambers. I lingered in the front door. 

“It was nice to meet you, Snow,” I smiled at him, looking at his lips. 

“It was good to meet you too, Martell,” he responded.

“Sand.”

“Sand? You’re a bastard?”

“Yes,” I hummed. “Just like you.” My fingers brushed his chest. He stopped my hand by grabbing it.

“I’m sorry. I just don’t think—

“You feel guilty. Northern bastards all feel guilty,” I started, looking at him in his eyes. “You think if you make love or fall in love, you would be doomed to have children and leave them to the same fate, no?” Jon’s jaw dropped. This time, I left him speechless.

“That’s stupid,” he stepped away from me. 

“It’s not, Snow. Things in Dorne are different. You and your sister would be happier there. It’s warm. It’s beautiful,” I grabbed his hand and started to trace circles in it. “Bastards are celebrated there. Your talents would be recognized. All of your talents.” I bit my lip and winked at him. I saw his face flush, and it felt good to see him struggle like I did when I first saw him.

He let go of my hand and scurried off without as much as a goodnight.

The wedding the next day was beautiful. Margaery’s hair twisted and turned like rose vines. She and Joffrey kissed as if they were truly in love. The Sept of Baelor filled with applause and joy, and I joined in. I shouldn’t have, but this should be a wonderful day. I felt a small bump behind me. I turned to see Jon.

He wore a purple outfit. A small wolf clipped his collar together. A darker purple sash came across his body. He kept his hands folded in front of him. We caught each other’s eyes, and he smiled at me. He mouthed the words ‘Hello there, Sand.’ I felt butterflies in my stomach rise up my body to my throat. I was afraid if I opened my mouth I would let them out, letting Jon know how I truly felt.

Jon gladly escorted me to the reception. Although most of the décor and entertainment were favored by the Lannisters, the food and drink was touched by the Tyrells. The bread was warm and soft on the inside, crunchy on the outside. Fruit decorated each plate, and the meat was fresh and steamed with spices. I watched Jon take in every bite just as I did. I gulped down the summer wine. The wine was so light I hadn’t noticed how much I drank. 

I leaned against Jon by the middle of the feast. I saw them roll out the pie, and it smelled so wonderful. Birds flew out of it and the crowd applauded. I leaned against Jon again. He placed his hand behind me to steady me. He was so kind to me. He was so sweet, and so warm. I wondered how he kissed girls.

I wish I knew what was happening, but by the time I paid attention, it had already happened.

Cersei clutched onto her son and cried out. Jaime Lannister sat there, defeated and in shock. She pointed at her little brother, Tyrion, and ordered for his arrest. The guests were thrown into chaos. Jon half-carried me back to my aunt and uncle, and then I felt Ellaria feed me water until I came to.

“What happened?” I asked.

“He’s dead,” Ellaria grinned in the privacy of her room. “The cunt king is dead. Cersei blames Tyrion and Sansa.”

“Sansa? That can’t be true,” I exclaimed.

“It is. Tyrion rots in the dungeons while Sansa has mysteriously run off. No one can find her. She is no longer in King’s Landing. If I were you, love, I wouldn’t trust anyone anymore.” I felt my heart beat faster. The Starks wouldn’t do something extreme like that. Sansa was gone. Did Jon leave with her?

I grabbed a cloak and ran out of the door, leaving my aunt behind with no explanation. I rushed down to the same dungeon like area the Stark banner men took me to. I found Jon pacing back and forth. He saw me and took a step back.

“Y/N—

“Did you do it?” I asked him. “Your sister is gone. Tyrion, your brother-in-law, sits in the dungeons. Everyone here knows you all hate Cersei and Joffrey. Tell me you didn’t. Tell me you’re not that kind of person.”

“I’m not!” Jon shouted at me. His hands were shaking. He took several deep breaths before he spoke again. ‘I’m not. I didn’t do this. I have to go. I have to go after Sansa. I have to find my sister.”


	3. Chapter 3

“You’re mad,” I told him. I stepped right up to the bastard and closed in the space between us. “If you leave King’s Landing right now, she’ll go after you like a bloodhound. She’ll kill you.”

“I have to do this,” Jon urged. “She’s the only family I have left.” My shoulders dropped, and I backed away.

“Just be safe. Promise me you’ll be safe?” I looked into his brown eyes. I saw many things in them. Worry. Fear. Bravery. Duty. 

“I’ll try, but I cannot promise anything,” Jon looked to the ground. I wanted him to stay here, but how could I so selfish? His sister needs him, and he needs her. Jon closed in the space again between us.

“I have a feeling I will see you again, Y/N,” Jon kissed my cheek softly. His warm breath left the side of my face warm. “I’m headed North to the Vale. Come find me when you can.”

The trial had begun almost right after the wedding. My aunt had kept me at her side at all times. She trusted no one especially when Cersei had thrown Jon Snow into the blame pool. She wanted to send soldiers after the both of them, but Jaime and her father, Tywin, had convinced her it would be fruitless. 

At least I knew he was safe from her, for now.

I watched Tyrion climb the steps to the stand and he faced his own father and several other members of the council. He was exhausted. He was annoyed. He was hungry. They nailed him with question after question. My uncle Oberyn had asked a few questions, formulated by one of the Lannisters no doubt. 

Ellaria and I had a hard time trying to figure out why Oberyn had agreed to do this in the first place. He hated the Lannisters more than anyone in Dorne, and here he was sitting by them. He aided in the trial. 

The next couple of days was the same. I would wake. I would go to the trial and sit there all day. Every day I learned something new about the little man. He had a lover. He never touched Sansa. He was kind to her. He sympathized with her. 

He wished he did it. He truly wished he did. It would have brought him so much pleasure to kill him off, but he did not do it. He shouted it, so all of King’s Landing could hear. Uncle did not kill nephew.

I believed him. He sounded too desperate. He wasn’t happy. He was a smart man, and I was a smart girl. He and I both knew that Tywin was trying to kill him. They didn’t need a scapegoat for Joffrey’s murder. They needed an excuse to kill Tyrion once and for all.

To prove his innocence, Tyrion begged for the last thing he knew he had. Trial by combat. If Tyrion’s warrior wins, he is innocent and is set free. If Cersei’s warrior wins, Tyrion dies. The lords and ladies of the court sat in shock. Who would each side choose? Who would win?

I sat outside in the gardens and let the sun touch me. The gods may be cruel, but they knew beauty and harmony. They made nature like this. I smelled the flowers and I heard the water from the fountain nearby.

“Y/N,” I heard Oberyn call out my name. I opened my eyes to see him in front of me, and none of Cersei’s spies in sight.

“Uncle,” I reached out for his hand. “This place disgusts me. I hate it. All of it.”

“Walk with me,” Oberyn guided me back inside the Red Keep. “King’s Landing was never your place to be. You would have never made it here. The people here are filled with hate piss.”

“I worry for the Starks.”

“You need to worry for yourself,” Oberyn chuckled. “I may have put you and your aunt in danger.”

“What did you do?” I asked, stepping away from him.

“He had no one else,” Oberyn explained. “His personal guard was paid off. His brother has no honor. I volunteered to be his warrior. I am to fight for Tyrion Lannister in the trial by combat. I am fighting the Mountain.” My eyebrows knitted together.

“Uncle—

“This may be our only chance, Y/N. For your mother, my sister. We are so close to seeing the end of our nightmares,” Oberyn grabbed me by my shoulders. “This is it. What we wanted.”

“What if you lose?” I questioned him. His shoulders dropped. He brought me close to him and embraced me.

“If I lose, you cannot run off. Do you understand me? You are to stay with Ellaria. You are to go back to Dorne, and you will live out your days as my bastard daughter.”

“I can’t. I won’t.”

“You can and you will. Do you see this world? If I lose, I lose. Death will welcome me with open arms. Do not follow my footsteps so easily. Be more like your mother. Be strong like her, live your life like she would want you to. Do not dishonor her by running into death while you are so young.” He let me go and kissed me on my head.

I should not have come to King’s Landing. I was not satisfied. If my uncle wins, we go home and I live my days as a wealthy bastard. If he dies, I go home and I live my days as a wealthy bastard.

No. I would not. I will not be like my mother. If my uncle dies, I will seek out revenge. My family has suffered enough, and so have the Starks.


	4. Chapter 4

The morning of I dressed in a golden dress like my aunt. We both had our chests open and our minds closed like a cage. I watched my uncle set his stage. Oberyn was never a soldier, but a performer. Whenever he fought, he made sure to let everyone know that fighting was a learned skill, not just swinging it.

I felt my body tense when I saw the Mountain. He was bigger than Oberyn described. Much bigger. To look upon the face of the man who killed my mother and my siblings angered me. I felt Ellaria pull me back by the back of my dress. I didn’t realize I was stepping forward. I felt such a pull to him. I wanted to crush him. I wanted him to suffer. 

I wanted him to admit what he did to my family. To me.

Oberyn tossed and turned his spear until he had the Mountain right where he wanted him. He threatened him. He paced around the Mountain screaming at him. Demanding him to tell the people of King’s Landing what he did. How he murdered my family. How he raped my mother.

“Who gave the order?” he screamed. I wanted the Mountain to die. I just wanted my uncle to end it. I knew he did it. I didn’t need the Mountain to confirm it. I needed him to die. I watched his abnormally large body bleed on the stage. The audience waited with bated breath to see if he would get back up.

This was it. My uncle did it. The Mountain lay weak on his back like a turtle. All my uncle needed to do was deliver the final blow, and the show would end. I would be able to sleep at night. But he didn’t do it. Oberyn only kept pacing and pacing. Screaming and almost going mad at the idea that the Mountain was going to die without admitting his wrongs.

Then the Mountain knocked Oberyn down.

I watched him place his thumbs over his eyes. I heard my aunt shriek in terror. I smelled the blood from where I stood. 

I had to go. I needed to leave. My feet carried me from the arena into the Red Keep. I wasn’t safe here anymore. I grabbed my daggers and anything I could carry, and I left. I evaded any soldier or servant in my way. I grabbed the nearest horse in the stables, and I took off.

I wasn’t safe here anymore. I felt my heart race faster and faster, matching the rhythm of horse galloping through the city. These pathetic fools were on their own. The common people had no idea who they were dealing with. My chest felt heavy. I couldn’t let it out. Not here. Not now.

Once I made it to the borders of King’s Landing, I spotted two northern travelers. They made snide remarks about the Red Viper and how the Mountain crushed his beady little eyes in. He was laughing about it. I was on my own. I decided what the law was. 

I trailed them with my horse for four miles until they stopped. Once they did, I took what supplies I could from them. Like a snake, I crawled in the grass and drew blood from their throats until they fell like dead mice. Silent and worthless. 

Cersei would be after me, so would my aunt Ellaria. I stripped my Dornish clothing and took the northerner’s clothing. It didn’t fit perfectly, but it would have to do. I had to find the only one I could trust right now.

I loved my aunt Ellaria, but she could be dead at any time. My Uncle Doran was a weak man, he would die soon as well. Jon Snow was the only person to ever shown me kindness outside my family. The more I thought about him, the more my heart swelled. It is said that the Dornish feel love harder than anyone else. I wasn’t sure if I loved him, but the bastard had a hold on me.

The ride towards the Vale was rough and filled with thieves. By the time I arrived at the Vale, I was covered in cuts and I had no water. I nearly collapsed when I saw Vale knights head for my horse. I felt my body being carried into the castle and then something warm.

I woke in a bed that had many furs thrown over it. I sat up immediately and went to grab the nearest weapon I could find.

“Y/N, it’s me. You’re okay,” Jon reached out for my arm. Once I saw his brown eyes look into mine, I let everything go. All of the sadness. The anger. The exhaustion. I let the tears pour out of my eyes like a flooding river. I lost my breath, and Jon’s arms embraced me. He held onto me tightly. “Y/N, I only just heard yesterday. I’m so sorry. I’m here.”

Words escaped me. How can you explain loss? It hurts in a new way every single time. 

“Jon,” I began. “I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know where to go.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” he smiled at me. “You don’t have to explain anymore.”

“Yes I do, you don’t understand,” I straightened myself in the bed. I looked down and noticed y disguise was gone and replaced with better-fit comfy clothing. The fabric was thick, and I noted the small direwolf stitched in the collar. He cared about me.

“What don’t I understand?” Jon asked, snapping me out of my thoughts. 

“There was a reason I went to King’s Landing with my uncle. I’m afraid I haven’t told you the complete truth about my circumstances,” I took a deep breath. I could trust Jon. He was honorable and he was kind. “I am no bastard. All my life, I pretended to be my uncle’s bastard daughter with Ellaria. The truth is, my mother was Elia Martell. My father was Rhaegar Targaryen. I am the true-born heir to the seven kingdoms.” 

The weight of hiding the truth lifted from my shoulders. Jon sat in front of me completely in silence. His eyes shifted back and forth, but his breathing was steady. 

“I believe you, Y/N,” Jon told me, taking my hand. “Your uncle would not have died in that arena if you were not the true born daughter of Elia.” I wrapped my arms around him, kissing him on the cheek. He slowly pushed me away, and knelt to the ground in front of me. He took out his father’s sword, Ice, and put it front of him.

“Jon?”

“Y/N, from this day forth and forever, I am bound to you,” he said. He looked straight at me, never wavering. “I vow my sword, my heart, and my soul to you.”

“Your heart? Your soul?” I gasped, straightening up.

“I have seen enough of King’s Landing to know who truly belongs there,” his hand tightened on Ice. “My father died for the cause. My brother fought and died for that same cause. Your uncle protected you for that cause. I will follow their path. I will put the right queen on throne.” I found it hard to breathe.

“The right queen?”

“Don’t you see you’re meant to lead?”

“You barely know who I am, Snow,” I quickly defended myself.

“The eyes see one thing, but the heart sees another,” Jon replied. “I can see that you are more than a Dornish girl. You are meant for more than this. You must know that.” He saw right through me. I was never going to sit and live my days with my lazy Dornish family. Jon waited for me to say something anything.

“Do you truly believe I am meant to be queen?” I asked him.

“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be kneeling in front of you, Y/N,” he said sincerely. “Let me protect you. Let me serve you.” 

“I will,” I didn’t need to think about it. Jon made me feel powerful. I knew I was, but I would be better with him at my side. He stood up as my protector. 

“What will you have me do, my queen?” Jon asked me. I felt my heart swell again, and I wrapped my arms around him. My lips met his. I moved against him, and he met my passion with his own. I didn’t feel alone in the world anymore. Our lips kept moving against one another until I was out of breath. I separated from him but I could barely open my eyes. Our noses touched.

“Stay by my side, promise me,” I demanded him. Jon’s forehead touched mine. My hands caressed the sides of his face, feeling his warm skin and beard.

“I promise, my queen.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any comments, concerns, or anything you'd like to say, please share! I do like to think of myself as an open book, and i do take criticism very seriously.


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